Memory Exercises
by Thobbit
Summary: Continued story of fluffy Simon/Alys. Theoretically meant to continue, but functionally on indefinite hold. Sorry.
1. Chapter 1

**Memory Exercises**

_A/N: Set shortly after A Civil Campaign. Unbeta'ed. Innuendo only if you want it. Enjoy!_

**Chapter One**

Morning light streamed through the windows at Vorpatril House in Vorbarr Sultana, illuminating the stately rooms. In the master bedroom, it showed a bed, in which there lay two lumps. Slowly, one of the stirred and sat up. Lady Alys Vorpatril stretched, yawned, and poked her bedmate in the side.

"It's morning, dear," she announced. "Time to get to work"

"The other lump rolled over, revealing a bland, neutral face and brown-grey hair. "I don't have work," Captain Simon Illyan, former chief of ImpSec, remarked. "Retired. Remember?" His drowsy smile drooped at this unintentional reference to his memory problems.

"You're helping me with the birthday preparations," she informed him gently. "Seating arrangements in the morning, decorations in the afternoon. Come on, up and at 'em!" Alys moved to poke him again, but he caught her finger and kissed it instead, prompting a smile.

"Can't we stay in bed a little bit longer?" he wheedled. "I'm sure your commando squad will have everything well in hand."

"Only if we spend the time doing something useful," she responded. Simon's eyes lit up, and he opened his mouth to speak. She cut in with, "Such as memory exercises."

He groaned, then sighed dejectedly. "I'll do what I must to stay in bed, I suppose."

Lady Alys settled back down and smiled at him. "So what are we doing today?"

"Prep for Gregor's Birthday Celebration," he recited. "Seating arrangements in the morning, decorations in the afternoon." He grinned with a touch of malice. "That's one thing I'm definitely glad I'm not in charge of anymore. Poor Guy."

"Both true," she said approvingly. "Now more distant. Um, when was the first time you . . . met Cordelia?"

Simon grimaced. "God, that was traumatizing. She was . . . never mind. Something more pleasant maybe? Like the first time I met you?" He smiled hopefully.

"All right," replied Alys. "So when was that?"

"Um . . . " His eyes clouded over, and he frowned in concentration, then dismay. "I don't remember."

Alys touched his shoulder sympathetically. "Well what is the first thing you can remember about our acquaintance?"

"I'm not sure. I know we worked together on and off for about a decade while I was Chief of ImpSec and you were Gregor's hostess, but I can't recall anything specific." His face brightened a little. "I do remember that day, shortly after Miles go me arrested, then acquitted, for that mercenary fleet of his, when you barged into my office and demanded a job."

She rolled over and snuggled into him. "I neither barged nor demanded," she corrected primly. "I knocked politely, entered, and gracefully offered my services as rumor-gatherer, with all the proper etiquette befitting a lady of the high Vor." Alys smiled, and snuggled a little closer to him. "Besides, I'm sure you knew I was coming a week in advance."

"I expect I did," he replied wryly. "And you most certainly were not proper. I'm fairly certain the exact words were, 'I'm bored. Hire me already, so I can help you collect gossip for real'."

Lady Alys rolled out of Simon's embrace so she could watch his face as she responded, "Something like that, yes, and you just gave me that little ironic smirk you do so well—look, you're doing it now!—and said, oh-so-politely, 'Why Lady Vorpatril! I could have sworn you were collecting gossip for ImpSec's analysts already, to the fullest of your ability'."

Simon rapidly schooled his face back into its customarily placid form. "Which got me a lecture about how much more you could do, if I just gave you some contact info, and simply ordered people to report to you. As if half the capitol didn't already."

Alys leaned in and kissed his nose. "Always the flatterer, Simon," she murmured. Then, more lightly, she added, "And now, thanks to you, I have two thirds of it as informants"

He smiled once more, without a hint of irony. "My pleasure." This time he kissed her, and on the lips.

After a pleasant moment, Alys drew back and said, "Speaking of informants, do you recall Byerly Vorrutyer?"

"Yeeess," Simon replied, drawing out the word as he searched his lagging memory. "Yes, I do. Town clown, IS-8, right?"

"Right, demoted from 9 after that incident with Lord Dono. You're doing better." she simpered affectionately.

"So, what about him?" Simon asked curiously. "Is anything wrong? Or do you just have good gossip that you forgot to mention at my nightly briefing yesterday?"

"I suppose you might say something's wrong," she replied mysteriously, pausing dramatically. He looked at her with exaggerated puppy-dog eyes, and she relented with a laugh, saying, "By's cover was blown; he was found out by a couple of High Vor, both involved in politics."

"What?" Simon gasped, startling out of semi-drowsy bemusement. Possibilities raced across his ImpSec-trained brain—blackmail, information leaks, false reports . . .

"Don't worry," Alys reassured him. "You'll appreciate this." She could see the various possible results flashing across his mind, each one no doubt more horrifying than the next. She really shouldn't tease him like that. "One of them was Miles, and apparently he gave By a rather ruthless critique—from a covert-ops perspective, you see."

"Yes, Miles would," Simon conceded, calming down a bit. "And the other?" He was still quite tense.

"I have the situation well in hand, really," she said with a slight smirk. "The other one's in Ops, and about as much under my thumb as it's possible for a young Vor lord to be. I believe you are familiar with Lord Ivan Vorpatril?"

Simon gasped again, though this time in amazement. "That idiot Ivan?" He checked himself, remembering to whom he spoke. But Lady Alys Vorpatril showed no surprise at this description of her son. "Well, I guess people do change," he added as an afterthought.

"Well, he certainly should have picked something up from MIles, after being his stooge for so long," Alys replied tartly. Then, in a more motherly voice, she continued, "Actually, he's been hiding for a week or so now. Seems terrified that this will lead to more work. Poor lamb." She sighed theatrically.

Simon grinned. "With all this change, perhaps he'll end his career as a consummate bachelor and find a steady girl," he suggested.

She sighed again, then sat up. "if only. But I really must get to work now."

He pushed off the blankets and stood up, announcing, "Seating arrangements it is!" Alys smiled up at him, and he leaned down for a kiss. It was broken off when she stood and headed towards the bathroom, asserting,"I get the first shower" over her shoulder. He smiled and began rummaging for clothes.

"We could always sit Ivan next to that insufferable Vor bore Vorparadijs!" Simon called towards the bathroom, where water was beginning to run. "Show him what an old, unmarried Vor is really like; scare him into marriage."

The only response was a shouted, "Ha! Serve him right!", but that was fine—they would laugh more later. He looked at the clock, and saw that it was nearly ten. Life certainly was different when one was retired.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Expect a hiatus on this of at least three weeks, I'm afraid. Please review and tell me your thoughts! Too romance-y? Not cheesey enough? I need feedback! Read, enjoy, and review!_

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**Chapter Two**

Simon Illyan was working at the comconsole in the master bedroom at Vorpatril House when Lady Alys breezed in from her visit with Miles' fiancee, Ekaterin. He turned to greet her, but she cut him off with, "Hello, Simon, I have simply amazing news, tell you in a moment," and went into the bathroom to do whatever she did in there. Somehow, she always came out looking more beautiful than before, but Simon could never figure out exactly how. He took the time to log off the comconsole and shut it down, then go sit on the bed.

When Alys emerged, looking, as predicted, even better, he patted the bed next to him invitingly. She went over and pecked his cheek, but didn't sit. Instead, she began changing from her visiting-Vor-lady gown into a more suitably casual relaxing-at-home number. Simon thought she looked stunning either way, but didn't mention that out loud. Instead, he asked, "So what's your amazing news, my dear? Because I have something pretty good myself."

"Oh, no, this is better," Alys enthused, voice somewhat muffled by the dress she was carefully pulling over her head. Simon got up to help her, and the conversation paused for several minutes of tugging, untying, pushing, and retying. Eventually, she was dressed again, and they sat back on the bed.

"So what is this news?" Simon asked, no longer able to stand the curiosity. The cutting off of his previously-constant information drip was undoubtably the worst thing about retirement.

Alys smiled, and began, "Well, you remember that Miles is building his Auditorial staff, right?"

The news must be exciting, or she wouldn't have questioned his still-faulty memory so bluntly. But he did know this. "Yes. So? Don't tell me he requested you on his workforce."

"No, no, nothing like that. Well, a bit like that, I suppose." Alys was smiling broadly, an odd mixture of humor and pleasure. "He asked Ivan to be his, and I quote, 'Chief Donkey'."

"And Ivan told you this?" Simon said skeptically. "Or Miles? Or is it common knowledge about town?"

"Of course not." replied Alys. She continued loftily. "I knew by motherly instinct." She stuck her nose in the air and posed like a proper high Vor matronly snob, but dissolved in giggles when he tickled her stomach. There was a brief flurry of kissing, then Lady Alys admitted, "Well, I actually heard about it from the bugs I put in Ivan's apartment a few years ago."

Simon grinned. "I hardly think that fifteen years counts a 'a few', my dear. Didn't you have them installed shortly after that fiasco with Vordrozda?"

She smiled back at him. "I'm glad you remember," she said warmly.

"It's hard to forget anything involving you," he responded lovingly. Then, in a more serious tone, but with laughing eyes, "It was rather a fuss, too, because Ivan is technically part of the Imperial family, which makes spying on him a privilege ImpSec guards jealously."

Alys waved her hand dismissively. "They got used to it. At least, you did."

"Yes." A pause, then . . . "Did Miles really call the position, 'Chief Donkey'?"

"Yes," she responded with a laugh. "Some sort of inside joke, I believe. He quickly amended it to 'Chief Auditorial Assistant'."

"Well," Simon said wryly, "Ivan's been Miles' Chief Assistant for years, however unofficially. I suppose he might as well get paid for it. Though maybe he'll come to his senses, and decline. There are other options."

She waved her hand dismissively again. "Ivan? Come to his senses? Don't be ridiculous. Besides, babysitting MIles has been Ivan's role in life from the moment they started playing together, and deep down, they both know it. Just look what he went and did when Miles thought he didn't need Ivan's help with the vote on Rene and Dono. The poor boy had to go and do something spectacular to win Miles' approval again."

"That 'spectacular' thing was what I wanted to tell you about, actually." Simon cleared his throat. "Guy called today to get my opinion of Ivan. Apparently, they're thinking of hiring him as a civilian informant, to bring in gossip from Ops and the young Vor social scene. Probably starting at IS-4."

"Was Guy really that impressed with Ivan's little coup of the Conservatives?" Alys asked curiously.

"I'm not sure," he replied frankly. "I got the impression that Gregor was pressuring him to ask, or at least consider of the idea. But I gave a fairly favorable description."

Lady Alys grew thoughtful. "Miles does always say that the reward for a job well done is another job. And those are certainly both very good employments. I wonder if they could be combined?"

"As in, Ivan switches from Ops to Miles, but still informs on the social scene? Or Ivan joins Miles on whatever erratic Audits he does, and brings back interesting tidbits about wherever they went?"

"Or," she countered. "Ivan joins in on MIles' erratic adventures, then reports in with tidbits on both the location, situation, and on Miles himself?"

Simon gave a short laugh. "Guy would love that, I'll bet. But you're overestimating those two. No, underestimating. Do you know how hard it is to get people to spy on MIles? I had to change my Dendarii agent every four years or so, because they kept turning on me. And they didn't even know Miles before getting the job—Ivan would be hopeless at it."

"What?" she said, confused, "You mean he suborned them to be double agents? Miles would never do a thing like that, and neither would Ivan." Her rightous maternal indignation flared up, and Simon hasten to calm it back down.

"No, no, nothing like that. He just kind of . . . charms people. They all started feeling it was disloyal to spy on their admiral, and requested to resign." He smiled wryly. "It's amazingly difficult not to do what he wants, you know. The tales I could tell you about some of his missions . . . I really wish you were classified highly enough."

"I'm working on it," she assured him.

"That's right, you're up to IS-14. But the highest you can go without working at HQ is 16."

"True," she said in approval of his memory. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, though." He smiled at her determination, and they kissed again.

After a moment, Lady Alys said, "I suppose you're right about the futility of asking Ivan to spy on Miles. It'd be like the time I tried to get Aral to help me plan a surprise birthday part for Cordelia. After they returned from their spontaneous vacation, I learned that not only had he told her, but he'd been reporting daily on the preparations. And when she decided it was all too much, she convinced him it would be better if they just went to Vorkosigan Surleau for the week." She smiled in reminiscence, and he smiled at her smiling.

"Yes," Simon agreed, "it would be almost exactly like that. Right down to the part where, if Aral hadn't agreed, Cordelia wouldn't have hesitated to pretend to comply, then escape to the country at the last moment by herself." The next few minutes were spent nostalgically talking about the 'Good Old Days of the Regency'. Alys was very pleased with how much Simon could recall, though she kept it to herself. She could tell that he noticed it too, though. Eventually, they returned to the present, and Lady Alys declared, "It's Ivan's choice, anyway. If ImpSec is foolish enough to think he'll snoop on Miles, I certainly don't intend to tell them."

Simon responded, "And I'll let Guy deal with his own problems, unless he specifically asks for my advice on the matter." He smirked. "I must admit, I hope he doesn't."

She didn't ask whether he meant 'didn't deal' or 'didn't ask'. After all, it was probably both. Instead, she inquired, "This morning, you said you had dinner plans for us. Should I change again?"

He stood, and offered a gallant hand to help her up. "No need, milady. I went over to Vorkosigan House and convinced Ma Kosti to provide us with a fully prepared meal, no heating required." He offered her his arm. "Shall we adjourn to the dining room?"

She gently laid her hand on his forearm. "Let's." They exchanged a kiss, and went off to dinner. Hopefully there would be maple ambrosia, but if not, both thought their conversation partner sweet enough.


End file.
